


Pretty Tied Up

by Empy (Empyreus)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bets & Wagers, Biting, Blow Jobs, Blushing, Crossdressing, Desire, Embarrassment, Fear, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Laughter, Licking, Light Bondage, Lust, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Multiple Partners, Obedience, On Set, Orders, Panties, Shame, Teasing, Threesome, Touching, Undressing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-23
Updated: 2002-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empyreus/pseuds/Empy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando's jeans were on half-mast as he had tried to the last to delay taking his pants off in front of the others. And god yes, the panties looked just as hideous still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> If you're looking for intelligent plotting, go back. This is just smut. :)
> 
> Thanks to my faithful beta [](http://littlemimm.livejournal.com/profile)[**littlemimm**](http://littlemimm.livejournal.com/), who patiently pointed out holes in my logic and who provided the music to write by.

It could have been worse. They could have been pink.

Viggo hid his smile in the mug of tea he was sipping, and Sean contented himself with pressing the back of his fist to his mouth.

Orlando felt like dying. He wanted to ask for instructions on how to get to Mount Doom so he could throw himself in and end the shame. Furthermore, he wanted to kill Dom for winning the bet. And he wanted to kill whoever had decided an extra costume fitting would be today and not tomorrow.

"That's a very interesting fashion statement, Orlando," Sean commented, his voice wavering with laughter.

The make-up assistants tried valiantly to suppress their giggles, but realized they were fighting a losing battle and excused themselves quickly, all but bounding outside to laugh.

"Look, it's a bet..." Orlando protested.

"You don't have to explain," Viggo said, but there was no laughter in that voice. "They look very nice on you."

Looking up at Viggo, Orlando caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirrors. His jeans were on half-mast as he had tried to the last to delay taking his pants off in front of the others. And god yes, the panties looked just as hideous still. The sheer black fabric stretched beyond its proper fit, warping the print, and the dainty white bows placed at the side-band seam shone too brightly against the black of the fabric and the tan of his skin. And the print. It was the last drop.

*Pretty.*

Dom would have to die.

A blush burned on Orlando's face as Sean looked him up and down slowly, his smile widening. There was something in the way the green eyes narrowed slightly that made Orlando want to either bolt or puddle on the floor. He was certain that if he moved, his body would attempt to do both. At the same time.

He stood frozen.

"You look like a deer caught in the headlights of a car," Sean said, standing up.

The distance between them couldn't have been more than four feet, and Orlando tried baby-stepping back without tripping. A clatter and a soft push at his back informed him that he had backed up against the clothes racks.

"Are you frightened?" Sean asked, a husk to the voice that indicated that his intentions were less than pure.

"That- that's Viggo's line," Orlando tried lamely. Fear was beginning to turn to lust, and he cursed his libido. Not now. Not on top of the rest of the absurd situation.

"And?"

And you're close enough to kiss me, Orlando thought.

Which turned out to be Sean's exact intention.

Leaning into the kiss, led by muscle memory far more than common sense, Orlando tilted his head to the side, welcoming the invading tongue. Sean's hands slid down along his arms, then over the curve of his hipbones, fingers hooking into the waistband of the panties, stretching the elastic slightly but leaving it in its place.

The absurdity rating on the day was definitely going way up, Orlando decided. Here he was, pants around his ankles, wearing women's underwear, while being kissed by Sean. And Vig-

He jerked his head back, breaking the kiss. His hands moved vaguely, undecided between covering his face and shoving Sean back. They settled for hanging limp along his sides. Orlando opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again as he looked at Viggo. So dirty, all of this - the kiss, the touch, his clothes, the voyeur, and the fact that the door was still unlocked.

A feathery touch to his chin, turning his head back. Orlando didn't have time to protest as Sean caught his mouth in another kiss, his hands cupping the back of Orlando's head. Force in this kiss, Sean stealing his breath, and Orlando's arms flailed for a moment, then came to rest on Sean's shoulders, drawing the older man closer.

He knew his cock was leading him around again, but he didn't care. Sean kissed like a god. As a calloused hand travelled down his back, pausing to knead at his buttocks, Orlando gave a moan, pressing up against Sean, knees bending and opening reflexively. When a strong thigh slid between his legs, forcing him up on his toes, he went with it. Sean broke the kiss, leaning back a few inches to look at Orlando, his parted lips curving into a wide smile before he bent his head to Orlando's neck. A hard kiss to the hollow of his throat, then teeth nipping lightly at the thin skin. Orlando's hands gripped at Sean's hair, trying to get a hold and nearly failing. As Sean timed a bite at Orlando's neck with a flick of his thumb over a sensitive nipple, Orlando yelped, bucking up against Sean.

"You have to love how responsive he is," Viggo said, his voice somewhere between clinical observation and amused envy. Catching Orlando's gaze, he winked, then locked the door, the click of the lock seeming amplified to Orlando's ears.

"It doesn't matter what I touch... he responds no matter what," Sean noted.

Orlando suddenly became terrified he would wake up and find it all to be a dream. This couldn't be happening. However, Sean's warm hand cupping his groin convinced him very much that this was no fantasy. Viggo's low chuckle, barely heard over the rush of blood in Orlando's ears, had the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Then there was only the shock of another mouth on his skin, another pair of hands skimming over him. Rattle from the clothes hangers as he rocked back, driven backward by two strong bodies. He twisted, unsure if he wanted to distance himself or get closer. A moan escaped his throat, and he was shocked at how loud it seemed in the confined space of the trailer. Sean's hand was still cupping him through the panties, the fabric seeming like a second skin, and every time he shifted, the scrape against his cock set off new tremors.

Opening his eyes, amazed that he hadn't even been aware of closing them, Orlando found he didn't know what to focus on. He couldn't look at Viggo, couldn't look at Sean, and he settled for simply throwing his head back, bucking against the deviously clever hands.

"Look at me, Orlando," Viggo said, his voice down into velvet.

"Ca-c-can't," Orlando managed.

"Do it," Sean commanded, the rasp sending a delicious shiver down Orlando's spine.

Green eyes and storm grey ones, nailing him to his place. He couldn't breathe, could only *feel*, and thought he was quite possibly going to die from the sheer overload of it all. As Sean moved, moving away and letting go, Orlando had to grab at the crossbar of the clothes rack to even try to stay standing upright.

Giving a slow and thoroughly wicked smile, Sean leaned in, his free hand cupping the side of Viggo's face. The two shared a long, deep kiss. Orlando gave a whimper as two sets of hands began stroking him, and he butted his head in between Viggo's and Sean's faces, expecting and yearning to be a part of the kiss. The older men obliged the wordless request, teasing Orlando further by administering only the briefest nips and licks.

Scrape of nails against his lower stomach, then the momentary pressure of stretching fabric against his buttocks. A snap, and the panties slid to the floor in a flutter of black fabric. Feeling desperately clumsy, he kicked the snarled jeans off, watching as Viggo and Sean set out to explore each other's chests, seemingly oblivious of the highly aroused Orlando.

A second of quiet wonder over what he was doing, and then lust shoved all other thoughts aside. Sliding his arm around Sean's neck, he wriggled his way to stand between Sean and Viggo, tilting his head back to rest it against Viggo's shoulder. He gave a high gasp at the friction of their clothes against his skin.

As the two men pushed Orlando back and to the side, he came up flush against the fur-lined cloak intended for Boromir, and the soft hairs were another kind of caress, achingly soft and sweet in stark contrast to the burning touches. Sean's thigh braced between his legs was holding him up, and now Viggo wrapped his arms around Orlando's chest and waist, sandwiching him between them. Press of Viggo's erection against the cleft of his ass, and Orlando's legs parted further as he arched against Sean, wanton and uncaring.

Viggo traced his fingers up along the insides of Orlando's arms, lifting them over his head and finally, cleverly, locking Orlando's arms over his head by looping a belt around his wrists and then fastening the end of the belt to the crossbar of the racks. Far too much ease in that manoeuvre, telling that it had been done before. Many times.

"Now be still, pretty one," Viggo whispered into Orlando's ear, voice hot and insinuative.

Something between a sigh and a screech from Orlando as Sean kneeled down, taking his time licking a twisting path down Orlando's chest. Sharp-toothed nips at his nipples, bright shards of pain melting into blissful warmth pooling in his groin. Viggo drew his tongue up along the side of Orlando's ear, trailing wet heat in exact tandem with Sean's mouth, now zeroing in on Orlando's navel, and jesus god he had never thought *that* would be an erogenous zone.

The firm clasp of Sean's hands on his hips, fingers pressing against the taut skin hard enough to bruise by now, surely, was the only thing reminding him this was actually *happening*. Then, a warm, wet mouth on his cock and he bucked up, giving something dangerously close to a girly scream, his fists clenching hard. More Viggo-laughter in his ear, then bites down along his neck.

Oh, and the delirious feel of Sean's mouth on his cock, just that hint of teeth that kept him on edge... and why had he ever presumed Sean would be the model of straightness? Not with that mouth. Seeing Sean on his knees in front of him, his cheeks hollowed, had Orlando almost lose control. Too much. He couldn't take it.

"You want him inside you, don't you? You want him to fuck you until you can't see straight," Viggo whispered into his ear, the accent turning the already sordid statement three degrees dirtier. Orlando didn't trust his own voice, and only nodded.

"Then tell him," Viggo went on, shifting his hips, "tell him what you want him to do to you."

It seemed like an eternity before he managed to form words that actually meant something.

"Sean, stop.. I - I want -"

Feeling Sean's mouth withdraw was nearly painful, the air feeling like a caress in itself against the slick skin.

"This?" Sean asked, breath ghosting over the head of Orlando's cock. "Tell me, Orlando." His fingers slid into the snug cleft between Orlando's buttocks, teasing the tight ring of muscle.

Orlando's feet were skidding on the carpeted floor as his knees buckled.

"Ah god... yes," he croaked out, his hips thrusting forward.

A little half-laugh from Sean, and he pressed a light kiss to the arc of Orlando's hip.

"It's good we want the same thing."

Orlando gave a disappointed mewl as the pressure of Sean's fingers disappeared, but the sound notched up in volume as the deft touch returned, now slick and warm. Lingering strokes into him, stretching, and it was all far too *slow*. As a second finger joined the first, brushing against a spot deep inside him, he struggled weakly against his bonds, wanting to touch Sean.

Sean met his gaze with another challenging smile, then reached up to cup Orlando's jaw with his free hand, sealing his mouth to Orlando's in a deep kiss as he rose.

Time to see Viggo lean nonchalantly against the wall next to them, his eyes narrowing as he watched. Time to reflect that what he was engaged in was something he could never, ever have anticipated. The entire world shrank to be only him and Sean.

"Untie me," he tried between kisses, yanking at the too-well knotted belt.

"Oh no, Orlando. You're going to stay put," Sean informed him, his voice husked, the syllables burning.

Orlando opened his mouth, then thought better of it and closed it again. He had nothing intelligent to say, at any rate. And it was rather too much to expect that he should be able to string together coherent sentences in this state. Instead, he bucked against Sean's hold, inadvertently catching Viggo's gaze as he moved his head, and he felt a deep blush rise on his cheeks as Viggo smiled a wide and thoroughly insolent smile. Straightening up, Viggo moved to stand behind Sean, his hand sliding up Sean's side. The long fingers traced a narrowing spiral around Sean's nipple, and Viggo leaned in to kiss Sean's ear.

"A bit late for shame now, isn't it?", Viggo smiled.

The flippant statement only increased Orlando's arousal, because yes, it was shame, and it was far too late and just that turned him on so desperately. But he wanted more, he realized, more shame and more lust and just - more. Sean seemed to read his mind, and Orlando gave a loud gasp at the sensation of Sean's slick fingers stretching him, winding him up unbearably.

"Just... get to it."

"Get to what?" Sean smiled.

"God," Orlando groaned, spreading his legs, kicking away a stray pair of boots, "just please fuck me. Stop teasing."

Sean made a sound that was something between a growl and a laugh, moving to stand behind Orlando, swiftly undoing the buttons of his jeans, then pressing up against the sweat-slicked expanse of back. Skin on skin, heat matched so that Orlando didn't know who burned fiercer. A knee nudging his legs wider apart, and his feet sought traction on the coarse carpet. His back arched to a tight bow, the muscles screaming at the exertion, as Sean clasped his hips and thrust in, not quite rough but certainly not gentle.

Too damn much, he thought dazedly, throat muscles working around a scream that he didn't dare voice. He hung his head, moving in time with the thrusts, this carnal dance of interlocked bodies. The friction screamed through his nerves, his heart beating double-time already. He was clenching and unclenching his fists, the bones of his wrists pressing together painfully. Like a dance, yes; fast, slow, slow, fast again...

"Look at him," Sean panted against Orlando's neck, the voice like fire, the words followed by the slick-coarse rasp of tongue against the nape of his neck.

When in God's name had Sean become so devious? What signals had Orlando missed?

He lifted his head with supreme effort, the muscles of his shoulders already protesting at the ungentle bond, his arms numbed. He meant to ask Viggo to please, please untie him, but the words died on his lips as he caught the look in Viggo's eyes. Not just storm-grey anymore, but a thunder-dark shade rich with lust.

This time the moan would not be silenced, and he gave a keening wail as Sean timed a deep thrust with Viggo's smile.

"You should see yourself," Viggo mused, voice raspier than ever, as though the arousal wore it ragged. "Pretty boy strung up." Slight clink of his ring against the buttons of the fly as he unbuttoned it, sliding his hand inside. A strange shrug of the hips, allowing the trousers to slide down his legs, before he simply kicked them off. He tilted his head to the side as if measuring up the dimensions and proportions of a new subject. His other hand rested high on Orlando's chest, the pad of the thumb in the hollow of Orlando's throat.

Orlando had no words. Even if he had, they would never have come out in the right order. Viggo stretched leisurely as he went on stroking himself, standing not one foot from Orlando. Sean laughed against the nape of Orlando's neck, the sound throaty with lust.

The sudden feel of Sean's hand wrapping around his cock was nearly enough to make him come, and he twisted, agonized with lust. The knotted belt creaked, then snapped, the buckle clanging against the metal of the clothes rack before it dropped to the floor with a soft thud. Orlando nearly lost his balance, but found himself pinned back against Sean's body as Viggo stepped in, catching a sweat-sheened armful of incoherent Orlando. Friction of fabric against his skin, and he was so close, just a fraction more, *oh please...*

Both Sean and Viggo stilled.

This was pain, teetering on the edge of orgasm, and he tensed, trying to delay his climax, swallowing back the waves of slow burn. Couldn't. Not so soon. Had to.

Viggo folded his fingers over Sean's and stroked once, root to tip.

That one touch was enough to undo Orlando and send him spinning into a flaring vortex of release. He had never come this hard. Black dots swam in his field of vision as he bucked into the joint grip of the hands, and they were three in this, he realized. His grip on Viggo's shoulders turned claw-hard.

Threesome.

Orlando arched back, giving a loud shout as Sean sank his teeth into the nape of his neck nearly hard enough to draw blood, his hold on Orlando crushingly tight. One long, sweet spasm after another as Sean came, his hips bucking high, nearly lifting Orlando to his toes. Viggo leaned in close, but didn't kiss Orlando, his mouth instead seeking out Sean's for a lingering kiss. A minute gasp from Viggo as Orlando moved, and then he came, whisper-speaking some garbled mantra. Warm rush of Viggo's release spattering on his belly, and the simple sensation wrung another series of shivers from him.

Orlando kept his eyes closed, but the image of Viggo's feral grin was etched into his mind. A chuckle urged him to open his eyes again, and he blinked against the suddenly glaring light.

"Pretty," Viggo said, reaching out to smear a dab of the semen on his hands across Orlando's lower lip. Surprising himself, Orlando licked it away. Oh, he had tasted himself before, but this time it seemed the salt-bitter fluid was thick with some depraved musk. He and Viggo, mingled.

"Pretty indeed," Sean murmured against the skin of Orlando's neck, "spent and sticky and lovely."

Dom would still have to die, Orlando concluded. For not winning the bet sooner.


End file.
